


Dance Like No One Is Watching

by Kisleth



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Science Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 15:21:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisleth/pseuds/Kisleth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In times like these, one has to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. Find the silver lining, love what you do, et cetera. Newt can say with complete certainty that he loves what he does, although some days he wishes there was less stress, kinder deadlines, more hours in a day... All things he can’t easily get when the Earth turns at the rate it does and the Apocalypse looms in its amorphous form of ‘here I am but ha, not really. Joke’s on you’.</p><p>Today is one of the very rare exceptions that he plans on using to his full advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance Like No One Is Watching

In times like these, one has to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. Find the silver lining, love what you do, et cetera. Newt can say with complete certainty that he loves what he does, although some days he wishes there was less stress, kinder deadlines, more hours in a day... All things he can’t easily get when the Earth turns at the rate it does and the Apocalypse looms in its amorphous form of ‘here I am but ha, not really. Joke’s on you’.

Today is one of the very rare exceptions that he plans on using to his full advantage. The Clock has been reset and repairs are running at full clip on the far side of the Shatterdome, meaning that Dr. Stick-up-my-ass Gottlieb is over _there_ and supervising and amending code. Which means Newt has the lab to himself.

It’s also great that he has new specimens to categorize and take apart and get his hands in. He even has a fully intact (but still dead) parasite to examine and dissect. But, the utmost important thing, the cream of the crop, the _piece de resistance_ , is that he can finally listen to different music. Unknown to most, Newt actually has a wide array of music he enjoys but he doesn’t play a lot of it just because it’s way more fun to annoy Hermann with techno. (There was one week that they listened to Happy Core, which Mako loved and Pentecost came to personally destroy.)

Newt cues up some Artie Shaw from the late thirties and hums along as he starts to sort through his pieces. He’s not a good dancer and he knows it, not that it stops him. He’s too energetic to smooth out the movements into anything resembling grace. He’s much more suited to raves and the like over the slower tunes that he’s attempting to sway to with innards dangling from his hands.

Glenn Miller comes on and Newt is brought back to a few times where his life is punctuated by this particular song. His mother played it whenever she baked and it was on Doctor Who—that episode with the time traveler Captain—and most recently, it had been playing over his earbuds when he first met his lab partner, Dr. Hermann Gottlieb.

He starts to sway with the song but his arms feel empty. With a more-gleeful-than-he’s-willing-to-admit grin, he turns back to the table and carefully picks up the large parasite to dance with. He hums and dances over to Hermann’s side of the room because there are less things for him to trip over while he’s trying to remember how he’s supposed to move his feet.

The song is halfway through when he feels someone’s eyes on the back of his neck. He spins around on his heel and tries to come up with an excuse but the words die on his lips at the sight of Hermann, leaning heavily on his cane and holding back what looks to be laughter—or oddly contained rage. He feels his mouth open and close a few times before he can just barely manage to form sound. “Dude, I...” His voice fades at the sharply hiked eyebrow.

“I dread to make any presumptions as to what you were doing, Newton,” Hermann begins, the corners of his mouth spasming in some way that couldn’t be a smile... right?

“Dancing.” It’s a bit more curt and defensive than he meant it, but he’s trying to save what little dignity he has. Dignity. Right.

“I do not believe I would have ever guessed that.” The eyebrow lowers and Newt can feel his mouth pucker downward into a scowl. Hermann continues to speak, “Put that... thing down, Newton.” He watches the shift of weight, as cautious as it is slight, before Hermann lifts his cane and points to the parasite.

Childishly, Newt sticks his tongue out (he did try to resist the urge for a second) before doing as asked. He walks back over to his side of the lab. He doesn’t know why he’s doing it, but he puts the bug down and strips off his gloves. For now, he’ll blame it on Glenn Miller. When he turns back toward Hermann, he jerks back a little in surprise. He hadn’t heard the man move closer, but now he is resting his cane against the table.

“Uh... what’re you—?”

“What do you think?” Hermann interrupts and takes Newt’s wrists to place one hand on his rib cage and make him hold the other. He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Teaching you how to properly dance to the only decent music I’ve ever heard you listen to.”

“Just warning you, man, I’ve got, like, five left feet.” Wrong number. Shit.

“You do not have the storage space for that many copies of a specimen.” Is the retort. And it’s not just any retort, it’s a—

“Did you just make a _joke_?” Newt asks incredulously, already letting the cool, thin hand on his shoulder push him to where he needs to go. “Did you make a _joke_ about _dismembered_ _bodies_?”

Hermann tsks and it almost sounds nasally in its disapproval. They’ve had this argument before. “Bodies” makes them sound too human, whereas “specimens” is a much better choice in the mathematician's opinion. A verbal answer is not forthcoming and Newt is pushed, pulled, and swayed into what must be a ‘proper’ dance.

It’s a miracle that they don’t trip and fall over each other before the song ends, especially because it gets more and more awkward as the song goes along. He can feel the heat from Hermann’s torso against his own; he can almost feel them pressed together. His hand has drifted down to the curve in the other man’s lower back without him even knowing about it.

The last notes ring out and before Newt knows what’s going on, Hermann stops the slow spinning and steps away. He stumbles a little, but manages to catch his hand on a clean part of the table before grabbing his cane. He doesn’t look at the outstretched hands with technicolor arms that had instinctively reached out to him in case he needed the support. He straightens his shoulders and leaves as Newt just stares after him.

Newt has no clue as to what just happened. If it even happened. He stares after Hermann, his feet stuck to the floor as his lab partner leaves him to his music and specimens.


End file.
